Penny's Story
by shel-belle
Summary: My name is Penny. I was thirteen when my heart first "broke." My six-year crush was kidnapped. His name is Otto. Now I know that it was only a brief infatuation. A few months later, it broke again. His name was Tom. He is dead. And then, I realized I truly had nothing left. People may care or they may not, but I disappeared too. My name is Penny and I am changed.


**A/N: Rewriting this (sort of) after being guilted by a few friends and a reviewer: Replica. I won't be surprised or hurt if any of my original readers have forgotten and ditched this story long ago. I honestly was planning on deleting or discontinuing (I think I already have-ish) but decided not to. I still kind of dislike it, but not nearly as much as before (alternate POV's, past tense and others _very_ mixed up…Ew). It'll be from Penny's perspective throughout and present tense. I promise to update this at least every five months…I think. Sorry.  
And I filled out Penny's character more. She's still deceptive, sweet, and pretty, but now love love _loves _'pretty' things and people. Jay starts out as a jerk. Penny still feels for Otto.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the H.I.V.E. series. Mark Walden does.**

* * *

(Penny POV)

I'm finally out! I think exhaustedly. But I don't want to escape by _drowning _in a boring old ocean. I've always prided myself about being a great swimmer and it would just be _so _humiliating if anyone found out that I decided to kill myself in an _ocean_ of all places.

I swim lazily towards what appears to be a stretch of land. I hope it is. If I'm hallucinating then I really am dying in water. I cautiously near the island and wonder briefly if I step on the sand that maybe doesn't exist then I get swallowed by a giant fish and drown that way. I dismiss the thought immediately after seeing a seagull poop a few feet away from me – on the island. The white stuff is actually birdie urine, you know? Bird _poop _is that little grainy black-brown thing in the middle of said urine. Well, anyway, that…substance doesn't sink. It doesn't do anything, really. Just sits comfortably while sand blows over it and gets it gritty.

The island! Volcano, I'll jump into it. I'll be dead and it'll finally be over. All over.

I step out of the water and begin to climb the volcano. I quicken my pace until I near the top and pull out my pair of grapples.

This is going to be so much fun! I think gleefully, releasing an excited squeal.

I descend quickly into that hole (called a blowhole or a crater, I think…) filled with hot, burning lava. I let go of my grapples and squeeze my eyes shut. I fall faster and faster, trying not to think about Mrs. McReedy, the orphanage, my dead brother Tom, Otto and his baby sister. I love them so much. Isabelle: lovely, beautiful, kind, and innocent. I _chose _this, I remind myself angrily. Why should I even be feeling guilty? My choice, after all.

A loud crack interrupts my train of thought. Why's there glass here? Is this some twisted version of hell? Where's the fire? I begin to hyperventilate. I should be dead by now. What happened? Is _this _dying? It's supposed to hurt. I want it to hurt – no, _need _it.

I'm falling again, only faster, if that's possible. _Ow! _Hurts! Everything just _hurts _so much. Dying isn't supposed to hurt this much. Maybe I really misunderstand death. My arm feels…strange. Like it's numb or fell off or something. I prod it roughly and nearly black out from the sudden pain. I yank back my other arm quickly. The hurt doesn't stop.

"Dammit!" I curse loudly, surveying the damage done to my poor arm. It looks twisted and is bent at random angles. Kind of like a very badly abused stiff-stiff snake. Tiny bumps show me where bruises will show up in a few hours. A few splotches where it hit the glass the hardest have skin hanging on to my… well, other skins by thin _thin _threads of flesh. Gross.

I ignore my new wounds with some difficulty. My eyes instinctively scan everything to see what's out of place. I am in a volcano. It should be hot. I should be dead. I should be alone. Oh. People. Why…? I think back to my other failed suicide attempts. Mrs. McReedy.

"Pass a message to Mrs. McReedy for me, okay?" I glare harshly at everyone to help them understand. "Tell her to _leave me alone! _If I wanted her help, then I'd have asked for it. Believe me for once!" I screech indignantly, gasping for breath after my rant.

An unbelievably _beautiful _guy is standing right across from me. I quickly forget what I was upset about. I ignore his dull outfit – uniform, maybe – and focus on him. _Beautiful. _My heart flutters happily when he blinks up at me through his long, long, long gray-black eyelashes. So _pretty_! I squeal in my mind. Ooh. Imagine his little round lips against mine. Mmm…

"Who are you, how did you get here and why are you here?" he lists off quickly, almost bored. His sparkling blue eyes are narrowed in suspicion. Pretty_, pretty, PRETTY_! I chant internally.

"None of your business, but I'll tell you anyway," I say coolly, hoping no one notices that my lips are twitching upwards in a delighted grin. Pretty's talking to me! "I-got-here-by-jumping-into-this-volcano-and-I-should-be-dead-but-don't-worry-I'm-okay-with-life-right-now." I manage to say that in only one breath.

He looks surprised. Understatement. His mouth is hanging open slightly and clamps shut when he realizes.

"What?" he says very, very, very slowly.

"Huh?" I reply ever so brightly. I tuck a stray strand of brown hair behind my ear, feeling _both _ears heat up in embarrassment. "OW!" I squawk loudly, staring at my hand in dismay. It's dripping blood now. I rip off the end of my shorts awkwardly using my left hand and gently dab at said blood. The pain that comes next is so terrible that my vision actually swims in and out with pretty colors swirling colorfully in all its colorful prettiness. I sink down on one knee and bury my head into my _left _hand to steady myself. "Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid," I tell myself weakly, "Honestly, Penny, rubbing saltwater into a gaping, bleeding wound?"

Someone coughs nervously. Probably Pretty. The sound sends my head spinning painfully again.

"Do you –" he starts hesitantly.

"Shut _up_," I moan shakily. "Give me a moment," I say in a soft murmur, breathing heavily.

He says nothing.

"'Kay, what?" I snap, opening my eyes quickly to see him.

He blushes. "You're hurt," he begins uncertainly.

"Obviously," I hiss quietly, annoyed.

His eyes flash to mine immediately. Funny, he doesn't seem so pretty now…

"I could take you to a nurse or let you die," he informs me self-righteously.

"Kill me," I say matter-of-factly. "Just be quick about it."

He looks so startled I almost laugh. I do, actually. I wasn't supposed to, though…

"Don't suffocate me. I get nervous when I can't breathe. It gets so terrifying when you _see _him dying," I say softly after a pause.

"You're not going to die," he says, rather snottily.

I sigh and stand stiffly, trying to ignore my limbs protesting in pain. They lock. A whimper escapes my throat as I plop back on the ground.

He sighs now and lifts me roughly, carrying me sloppily – bridal style. I don't even get excited. Was that just a ten second crush then?

He enters a room labeled "Infirmary" and deposits me on a bed. "Look after her," he tells a nurse rudely. She gives him a stiff plastic smile and turns her attention to me.

"Who are you?" the nurse murmurs gently, beginning to undress me.

"Penny," I answer her, looking briefly over her shoulder to see if he left. He did.

She begins cleaning my arm up and adds an ointment on it. She does the same for the rest of my scrapes, ignoring the bruises.

"We'll be setting your arm after the risk of infection is gone," she says, carefully tucking a thin blanket over my naked self. I thank her and close my eyes.

* * *

The next day, the nurse tells me that I can look around with the guidance of another student. She gives me a loose black jumpsuit, telling me that I will get a new one soon.

Pretty grudgingly offers to show me around after being asked repeatedly by the nurse.

I accept haughtily.

He stares at me strangely and gestures awkwardly towards me.

My eyes immediately flash to my chest. I release a relieved sigh as I realize that I _am _wearing clothes, but frown when I see all of my scars and wounds displayed on my neck, legs, ankles, arms, and face. Practically everywhere. My swims made my normally pale, pale skin a light tan and now the pale raw pink stands out sharply. I want to hide them. I want to spray some makeup on every single one. But, the nurse said to prevent infection... I guess that means I'll have to display them to everyone.

I raise a single eyebrow at him expectantly and he shuffles out, seeming to be frustrated. I follow, my chin held proudly in the air.

As we walk, he mutters about the school and the teachers. I can hardly hear. Well, I'm pretty sure everyone's lying to me. A school made for the purpose of 'evil'. It's just so _stupid_. I just met Dr. Maximilian Nero, the school headmaster. He seems so... I don't know..._off_, I guess. Our conservation was weird...

_"From what I've heard, you tried to commit suicide by jumping into a volcano?" he says, eyebrow cocked regally._

_"Yeah," I say, wondering if he will do anything - if he _can _do anything._

_"Well, you're stuck here," he tells me bluntly._

_"'Kay," I say with a careless shrug. If this _is _an evil school, they can't hurt me. For the good of my education or something._

_His face screams surprise for a second before he quickly recomposes it into its usual blank oh-I'm-so-much-better-than-you mask. "Your schedule is in this." He taps a slender black laptop. "Called a Blackbox," he informs me importantly._

_I roll my eyes._

_His face hardens. "You must keep this at all times - leaving _nowhere _without it."_

_I nod, exasperated. Who does he think - _oh. _Right. The school headmaster._

_"Continue to have Mister Williams will continue to be your guide. I already informed the teachers of your arrival," he says airily. _

_"Who?" I blurt._

_"Jason...Jay," he adds after seeing my confusion. _

_I still stare blankly at him._

_He sighs, "Mister Jason Williams has been kindly assisting you, showing you around. He volunteered, seeing that you're hurt and new to our school."_

_"Oh," I say slowly._

_A terrifying, hysterical, choking, clanging sound rings through the air._

_"What was that?" I say nervously._

_"The bell. You may leave to eat now," he says grandly, motioning to the door. _

_I send him a strange look as I go. _

Jay hastily shoves me into the cafeteria and walks off with his friends. I whack him hard on the head as he passes by me. He gives me the finger. I do the same. The blond stares disbelievingly at me. I flash him a charming smile. He blushes and turns away. I ignore him.

I start towards the stack of trays and stop abruptly as I notice a very familiar flash of white. It's another Pretty - _my _Pretty - a guy with white hair and piercing blue eyes, one who looks exactly like Otto did. He's dead, though, isn't he? I walk to his table, reaching over to tap his shoulder. My hand is shaking noticeably.

"Hey," I say, uncertain now that I have his attention, "can I sit here?" I beam at him, tilting my head to the side in inquiry and fluttering my eyelashes sweetly.

In reply, he studies me intently and gives a small nod, the corners of his mouth drooping downwards slightly. I feel my eyebrow rising in disbelief. I've never received something other than outright enthusiasm and approval before.

I choose the seat to the left of him, the seat on the right is already taken by a redhead - Irish, maybe?

"So, why are _you_ here, Otto?" I say, my mouth widening in a friendly smile. It freezes in place when I hear myself saying his name. "I'm sorry...I - I...just thought you - you reminded me of one of my old friends... He's dead, though," I apologize quickly. "You just look like him, that's all."

"Penny?" he says softly, shiny blue eyes widening in realization. My heart skips a beat when I hear him saying my name.

I swallow nervously and nod. "Yes," I choke out. This is _Otto Malpense_, my crush of six years. _Otto._ Like _Otto_-Otto.

The red-haired girl begins to look suspicious. Probably his girlfriend, I think bitterly.

I start to babble out random things nervously, feeling my face flushing. "Hey, guess what? Tom's dead. Isn't that awful... He was hurting so much. I could see - " my voice breaks then. My left hand flies to my throat, desperately willing myself to not cry. Of all the things I could've said I choose to tell him about _Tom. _I continue my chatter, hoping no one noticed. "I ate a pickle two days ago. They taste awful. Why don't people like cucumbers? I mean, like, they taste watery, cool, and yummy. Pickles are hard, sour, and _dis_gusting. Tommy liked pickles," I blurt, feeling the tears welling up in my eyes. "Um...you have a sister!" I say suddenly. "Her name's Isabelle. She's two. T-To-omm," I whimper pitifully. I exhale slowly and recite what I remember. I'll never forget him - I _promised_. "Tom is _dead_. He was always stronger. He still loves me - I _know _it! Tommy was always there. Just there. I never had to ask. He told me to let them touch me wherever they pleased as long as they never did more. They did. He had it worse. Only three years older than me. A-an-nd they - they!" I begin to hyperventilate, broken sobs shaking my body.

Otto gently embraces me and I stiffen. I suck in a shaky breath and pull myself together, plastering a bright smile on my face. I lean over and peck him on the cheek. That wasn't how I envisioned our first kiss... I chirp about how wonderful he is for caring and that I missed him. I spin around and bounce confidently to the direction of the infirmary while he and his group stare after me. I don't let my persona slip until I reach my bed, curling into a ball and crying mutedly, face buried into the pillow.


End file.
